


Tuning

by DesireeArmfeldt



Category: Hard Core Logo
Genre: Angst, Community: ds_snippets | dsc6dsnippets, M/M, POV Third Person, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 21:52:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2285694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesireeArmfeldt/pseuds/DesireeArmfeldt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe can't get his guitar in tune</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tuning

**Author's Note:**

> Orignally written for the prompts "break, tight, tune" at [](http://ds-snippets.livejournal.com>ds-snippets</a>.)

The fucking E-string is cursed or something; it refuses to fall into tune, no matter how much Joe fiddles with it.  The fact that his hands are shaking has nothing to do with it.  He can tune an axe blind drunk, high off his ass, _asleep_ ; he's done it a million times; it's like breathing, something you do without thinking about it.

He tweaks the string a little tighter, bending the note until it shrieks, but damn it, no, it's still grinding against the rest of the chord, refusing to settle.  The buzz of discord makes his fillings ache.

Down, up--and up, and up again, tightening the screw on the damn E that doesn't want to be an E, doesn't want to play nice with others--and Joe's got to respect that refusal to march in step, except that he's got fucking _ears_ , even after who wants to count how many years of deafening concerts.

It's vibrating fast under his trembling finger--wound tight as a held-back scream, as a punch about to be thrown--tight as the back of Billy's neck--tight as Joe's own pounding head--furious energy pinned down and forced into song--that's where music comes from, after all--almost there, almost, if the son-of-a-bitch would just fall into place, then this nerve-shredding niggling wrongness would resolve into a sound Joe can use to blow the roof off this fucking dive, and his hands will stop shaking and the sparks behind his eyes will burn out so he can get one damn night of sleep--one night, all he needs--that, and for this fucking guitar to get into fucking tune before his fucking head explodes--

The string snaps, lashing blood from the back of his hand, leaving his ears ringing in the sudden silence.


End file.
